


eiffel for you

by agrestenoir



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Drama, F/M, Flirting, Flirting Tips From Bad Magazine Articles, Identity Reveal, Romance, awkward adrien, don't listen to nino, someone help adrien
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-10-24 01:34:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10731414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agrestenoir/pseuds/agrestenoir
Summary: While Chat Noir might be suave and charismatic, Adrien Agreste is anything but, especially when it comes to flirting with his crush, Marinette. When Nino gives him a magazine article with 10 Flirting Tips Guaranteed To Woo Woman, it sounds like a surefire way to let Marinette know how he feels about her. What could go wrong? As a superhero, Adrien should know better than to ask that.In which Adrien is an awkward flirt, poor Marinette is confused and flustered, Alya is having too much fun, and no one should listen to Nino.Based onthis poston tumblr.





	1. i must be in seine

“You’re hopeless.”

A loud _thump_ startled Adrien from his silent reverie as Nino dropped his textbooks on the bench next to him, causing Adrien’s elbow to slip off the edge from where he’d been resting his head in his hands. Clocking his chin on the back of the bench, Adrien leapt to his feet in a windmill of flailing limbs, trying to regain his bearings as his friend merely shook his head at his antics.

“Smooth, my dude,” Nino drawled out, seating himself in the spot Adrien had once occupied. “Is that how you plan to woo your girl—by ogling and falling?”

Adrien glared at the other boy, eyes burning like emerald fire, as a hot flush painted the tips of his cheeks. “I’m not _ogling_ , and I don’t have a girl. I’m just… admiring the décor.”

Leveling him with a blank expression, Nino gestured towards the courtyard in front of him. “Yes, the cement sure looks lovely this time of year.” He paused, quirking an eyebrow high as a smile slowly stretched across his face. “Or… are you admiring _Marinette’s_ décor?”

Sputtering wildly, Adrien whirled around to where the aforementioned girl rested across the courtyard, buried in her science book as Alya rambled on beside her, intently focused on the task at hand. Her eyes were narrowed as they roamed the page, so full of focus as she scribbled furiously in the margins. Determination taken hold of her, tongue poking out between pale, pink lips, Adrien just knew she was designing. There was no way she’d caught him staring.

Blush darkening, he turned back to Nino, lips pressed in a thin line, and refused to meet his gaze. “I wasn’t looking at Marinette.”

“Of course you weren’t,” he said, leaning back on the bench and stretching his arms out over the back. “You were staring at Alya.”

“Maybe I _was_!” 

“ _Dude_ , staring at another bro’s girl? Nah, that’s cruel.” A smile wormed its way on Nino’s face as he turned towards his girlfriend. “Though, I get it. She’s hard _not_ to stare at.”

Adrien snorted to himself, shaking his head, as he fell back onto the bench, slumping low as a soft groan fell between them. “What am I supposed to do, Nino?” He covered his face with both hands, rubbing his forehead as if to physically push the problem from his head.

“It’s Marinette,” Nino offered, shrugging helplessly. “Trust me, we’ve all been there.” 

Adrien sighed and pulled his knees to his chest, resting his crossed arms atop as he simply stared at the girl with a wistful expression. Marinette continued working, hunched over the pen and paper, lost to the world around her with a soft smile stretched across her face. Head cocked to the side, black hair dusting her shoulders, she was truly a sight to behold, and Adrien knew he was completely and _utterly_ screwed. 

Adrien had a little (read: _huge_ ) problem: he liked Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Honest-to-God, head-over-heels _liked_ her, and… he didn’t know what to do about it.

As suave and confident as Chat Noir pretended to be, Adrien Agreste couldn’t embrace that side of him in all walks of life. His track records with girls wasn’t so stellar in the first place as they contained Chloe and Lila—all of whom ended in a bitter, brutal forest fire before he even knew what had happened. (Because that's usually what happens when a girl you have absolutely no interest in declares you're dating before you even knew... she... was... interested.) Ladybug… _Well_ , he remembered with a soft sigh… He’d tried to confess his feelings to his partner as Chat Noir, but it hadn’t gone as well as he’d hoped. She’d calmly turned him down and admitted that she liked someone else in her _personal life_ —something that _Chat Noir_ wasn’t privy to, despite how much he longed to be.

As Nino lied to say, without a lady to tie him down, Adrien Agreste was _single and ready to mingle_. 

(But he’s always been single? And how did he make time to mingle? Like, Nino, what the hell, dude?! Help a man out. How do you be _single and mingle_ on a busy schedule?)

…But then came Marinette.

Marinette, with her kind eyes and soft smiles, who could slay a dragon with her wit and heal the dying with her heart. There was something about her that just seemed to set his world ablaze, a feeling he thought he’d lost when he let Ladybug go, and never expected to feel again so soon.

He had a crush on Marinette, and he was screwed.

“Seriously, Nino,” he began, eyes fixed on the girl across the courtyard. “What do I do?”

“Tell her you like her,” Nino offered, crossing his arms against his chest. “It’s that simple.”

Furrowing his eyebrows together in confusion, he started at his friend with a frown. “You can’t just _tell_ a girl you like her.”

“You told me to do that when _I_ liked Marinette,” Nino pointed out. 

“B-But that’s _completely different!”_

“How is that any different from _you_ liking her?”

“B-Because it’s _y-you_.”

Nino sighed to himself, rubbing the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses. “Oh, we have so much work to do.”

Adrien nudged his friend with his elbow, an air of seriousness settling over his shoulders. “Come on, man, you got to help me. You know I’d do the same for you… I’ve _done_ the same for you.”

Nino snorted under his breath but seemed to agree reluctantly. “Alright, alright. I’ll help.” He pushed himself forward, resting his arms on his knees, and gestured towards Alya and Marinette across the courtyard. “It’s actually really simple, okay? All you gotta do is _flirt_.”

“ _F-Flirt?_ ” Adrien sputtered, blush back in full bloom. 

“Yeah, you know, flirt,” Nino said, a Cheshire grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Let’s girls know you’re into them.”

Adrien shook his head vigorously before Nino had even finished explaining. “B-But Marinette hates puns!”

“ _Puns_?! What are you… _Chat Noir_?” Nino shook his head, oblivious to Adrien freezing as panic rolled over him. “No, you just gotta flirt, man. The ladies love a dude who’s chill and confident, and you’ve got that in _spades_ when you’re not being a complete dork. You just need to go out there and own it. Trust me, you got this.” 

Adrien closed his eyes as he took a deep breath, refusing to meet Nino’s gaze. “But _how_? Every time I go up to her, she looked at me… and I can’t… make my words work.”

Nino mumbled quietly under his breath, a simple _“…you two are perfect for each other,_ ” but it was too low for even Adrien to hear coherently. At his friend’s puzzled expression, Nino flicked the statement off and turned back to the topic at hand. “Look, all you need to do is go up there and give her a compliment or something. Give her _The Stare_ and invite her to a movie or something. It’s really easy. It worked with Alya.”

“You sound like those articles in my father’s magazine,” Adrien murmured softly, and this time Nino was craning to hear. “Look, I don’t know how to… _talk_ to girls.”

“I thought you were the expert,” Nino teased, quirking an eyebrow high in amusement.

“The girl I admitted I had feelings for said we were better off as friends.” He ducked his head, gaze settling on the clasped hands between his legs.

He shrugged helplessly at Nino, internally cringing as he remembered the encounter atop the Eiffel Tower during patrol merely six weeks before, where Ladybug had politely written off the matter of his confession. _God_ , he’d made such a fool out of himself, throwing his heart out into the night, bloody and raw for the world to slaughter, but his partner had simply boxed it back up and handed it back to him, never taking the time to smash it to smithereens but still managed to shatter it entirely.

The incident had definitely been a setback in their partnership, and the following akuma battles had been rough at best. However, slowly the strained strings between them softened to a point they could stretch and twist once more without the threat of breaking hanging over them, and now he could look and laugh at Ladybug without fear he’d hurt her, and she could do the same for him. It helped in a small way, he supposed, that he knew where they stood now in regards to each other. They were partners, and at the end of the day, that’s all that really mattered. 

Accepting their relationship as friends, while it hurt, wasn’t too bad. Besides, Adrien reminded himself, if he hadn’t gotten over Ladybug and accepted the way things were destined to work… he wouldn’t have fallen for Marinette—and what a _travesty_ that would have been.

(Really, _really_. He was being serious. He didn’t need _another_ crush right now—especially after the last one had worked out so well. Marinette was his very first friend, and if he somehow screwed this up… then where would that leave them?)

Nino, however, didn’t seem to pick up on his fear, simply nodding at Adrien’s reveal. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. A supermodel, right? Way too out of your league.”

“Well, you’re right about one of those things,” Adrien said. “She was definitely out of my league.”

 _Oh Ladybug,_ he thought, _you’re a monument in my eyes, and still Eiffel for you._

(Mentally, he made a note to tell her that pun. Something told him she’d appreciate that one.)

“That’s okay, my bro,” Nino reassured him, slinging an arm over his shoulders. “I’ve got some flirting tips that can _definitely_ help you score Marinette.”

Adrien turned back to Marinette, watching her work for a few more moments, before shrugging. “Sure,” he told his friend. “What could go wrong? Let’s face it, I need all the help I can get.”

( _What could go wrong?_ As a superhero, Adrien should’ve known better than to say that.)


	2. RIP: boiled water, you will be mist.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Adrien had bad luck, he still can't talk to Marinette, but Nino has a solution.

It was raining the next day, and Adrien Agreste had forgotten his umbrella.

This was a peculiar situation. Adrien was always known for being prepared--whether it was for a pop quiz or an unexpected change in weather. being Chat Noir had that effect on him. As a superhero of destruction and misfortune, bad luck ran through him as easily as the blood in his veins, so it was no wonder he always have a backup plan for any setback that might come along. However, forgetting his umbrella today wasn't something he could chalk up to the isolated instances of bad luck from Plagg's influence. It was more along the lines to what he could control versus the vagaries of his own destiny and powers.

To sum it up: he screwed up this morning, and now he had to pay the price. 

Staring at the passerbys hustling through the Paris wetland, he was dismayed to find that everyone else seemed to wake up on the other end of the rainbow today, umbrellas in hand and smiles on faces. Usually the rainstorms resulted in one or two sopping-wet classmates rushing into the classroom right before the tardy bell rang, dripping puddles on the tile floor as they stammered out apologies to Madame Bustier, while sat cozy and dry in his seat. Today was a completely different story.

He was parked a block away from school, staring out the window with a growing horror, as he realized the Gorilla could not _indeed_ fix the car troubles they encountered like he swore, and now Adrien would have to run through the rain to avoid being late to class, with no umbrella on hand. A tardy wasn't something he could afford, especially after the numerous warnings Madame Bustier had already given him; one of these days, someone would call his father's office and inform him of his son's sketchy attendance record. Adrien might as well kiss his days of freedom (and Chat Noir) goodbye. 

Sighing to himself as he looped his school bag's strap over his shoulder, he cautiously pushed open the car door and stepped out onto the sidewalk. As dark clouds hung heavy in the sky, a thick sheet of rain poured over the city, and Adrien was, unfortunately, caught in the middle of it. The storm had come in like a bullet, sudden and explosive, and there was really nothing he could do to escape it. He tried to tell himself that an umbrella would have protected him, but knowing _his luck_ , it wouldn't have done much in the grand scheme of things. The rain was already drenching his clothing, so there was little to be done. 

He merely flashed the Gorilla a grim smile, gesturing towards the school with a flick of the wrist. "I'll just walk. Don't worry about me."

The Gorilla raised his head from under the hood of the car, nodding once before turning back to the task at hand. Between the Gorilla and him, there wasn't much need for words, and Adrien desperately appreciated it at certain times. Turning on his heel, he took a few steps down the sidewalk before the world came to an abrupt halt. 

He couldn't hear the car over the rain, but the engine purred loudly as it blew by, splashing rain water from deep puddles on the side of the road onto the sidewalk and soaking him to the boot. The water ran down his back like an icy hand crawling over his skin, and he could only stand there helplessly, shivering after the onslaught of the wave while a cool breeze stirred the hairs on his arms. He could feel the Gorilla's wide-eyed gaze on him, so he closed his eyes and dared no to look, willing himself not to brutally murder Plagg at the first chance he got. 

There was a difference between rotten luck and bad luck. Rotten luck was one of his own making, whether it was some scatter-brained tendencies or being forgetful, while bad luck was a power Plagg and the Black Cat miraculous bestowed upon him. Forgetting his umbrella was one thing. Being drenched by a car was another matter _entirely_ (entirely Plagg's fault, he meant).

Standing on the sidewalk, chilled to the bone with water-sodden clothes, all he could do was pray for lightning to strike him.

By the time Adrien had arrived to school, the tardy bell was just ringing, and he could only continue his walk-of-shame, the _plop, plop, plop_ of water-sodden converses echoing through the hallway like a droning funeral march. He paused outside the door, hand on the knob as he peered through the window into the classroom full of bustling students chattering with friends as Madame Bustier got the lesson together at the desk. Hoping he could slip in without notice, he pushed the door open slowly and stepped inside, pushing it shut behind him and creeping around the desk as quietly as possibly while Madame Bustier had her back turned.

His squeaky shoes screamed a symphony of shame instead. 

The entire classroom paused as he seated himself in front, staring at him with wide eyes and barely muffled laughter. Clasping his hands together in front of him, head bowed, Adrien refused to look at anyone. 

Nino leaned closer, catching his attention. “Dude, way to make an impression,” he hissed. 

“My car broke down,” he explained, crossing his arms against his chest with a small frown. “I had to run in the rain.” 

Nino’s body shook with laughter. “Didn’t you have an umbrella?”

“I sort of… forgot it?” he offered helplessly.

“Oh really?” Nino asked, eyes sparkling with mirth. “I couldn’t tell.” It only made Adrien sink lower in his seat. “…Now stop looking miserable cause Cutie at six o’clock is looking at you.”

Adrien furrowed his brow in confusion as he turned around to where Nino was gesturing, only to freeze in alarm when he met the bright blue eyes of one concerned Marinette Dupain-Cheng. A dark blush flushed across his face, and he wanted nothing more than to fall through the floor and disappear.

“A-Are you… alright, Adrien?” she whispered lowly, gaze falling to her hands as they toyed with her tablet pen.

Adrien jolted at her question, placing his elbow on the desk and resting his head against his hand. “Y-Yeah, I’m _fine_ , Marinette. Thanks for asking. H-How you dooo _iinng_ —” There was a sharp _squelch_ as his wet skin slid across the glossy surface, and a loud _thud_ as his head collided with the desk.

 _Fuck my life_ , Adrien thought to himself, face pressed in the desk as snickers echoed around him.  _And Plagg. Always Plagg._ He slowly pushed himself back up on shaky hands, absolutely refusing to turn around and face Marinette, though he could feel her gaze burning into the back of his neck. 

_Just end me now. Please._

The sound startled Madame Bustier, who finally raised her head and caught sight of his sopping figure, looking more like a mangled cat than a famous model. "Adrien, while I do appreciate your fashion statement, perhaps you should get changed," the teacher suggested with a bemused expression. "Do you have any... _dry_ gym clothes in your locker?" 

Adrien slowly shook his head, unable to meet her gaze. "Sorry, Madame Bustier. I left those at home… with my umbrella.” 

His teacher tried to hide her smile but did a rather poor job of it. Adrien couldn’t exactly blame her—he imagined he was quite the sight: soaked clothing hanging off his frame like drying laundry on a line, hair curling into fluffy waves as it dried, while his whole body dripped miserable puddles onto the tile.

“I have an extra pair of clothes in my locker, Madame Bustier,” Nino interjected suddenly, still struggling to contain his laughter. He cast his friend a sideways glance, knowing it was Nino’s subtle way of telling him _I’m about to get into trouble, and you’re coming with me_ , which always ended with Nino getting into trouble, and Adrien going _down_ with him.

Honestly though, there came a point in every young man’s life when he had absolutely _no more fucks to give_ , and Adrien had finally reached that point. If Nino was up to something, then so be it. _If it means I can get out of these wet clothes_ , Adrien thought to himself, wincing at the _squish-squish_ of his water-laden socks, _then I’ll do anything._

“Hurry back you two,” Madame Bustier said as Nino practically hauled Adrien out of his desk and shoved him out of the classroom door.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Nino was doubled over with laughter, small frame shaking so hard that he had to reach out to the wall beside them to keep himself upright.

Adrien pursed his lips in a thin line. “ _Hardy har har_ , Nino.” 

“Dude, when you said you were gonna start flirting with Marinette, I didn’t think you’d wash out so early.” He wiped under his glasses for any stray tears that’d escaped during his laughing fit, still shaking his head at his best friend’s misfortune. “For a first try, I don’t think it could have gone worse.” 

Adrien refused to respond, choosing to walk to Nino’s locker in silence (and Nino’s gasping laughs) because his friend wasn’t _wrong_. Looking like a drowned cat and trying to channel Chat just ended up in a raging disaster, and he’d much rather be struck by lightning than go through that horror again. 

He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t simpler with Ladybug. As Chat Noir, he walked with a certain grace and charisma that Adrien didn’t have with a mask to hide behind if things went wrong (which they _did_ , but they’d fixed it because they were _them_ ). He could flirt and pun, fight and play, be a fool and a partner at the same time. He had freedom at his fingertips, and he could explore and find exactly who he wanted to be. That’s why he and Ladybug worked so well together, he reckoned, because with as many secrets as there were between them, there were just as many things that _weren’t._  

As Chat Noir, he had to hide a name and a face, but… that was _it._  

As Adrien, though, there were strict rules and guidelines he had to follow. He was a brand with a message, one someone had been hired to write for him, and his only duty was to strictly adhere to it. As Adrien Agreste, he was _only_ a name and a face, and that’s… really all anyone cared about.

…which made it so much harder for him to pursue Marinette in the way he wanted. Adrien was only the stupid boy who smelled like camembert and tripped head over heels every time she walked past. He couldn’t pretend to be Chat Noir if he didn’t know how to be Adrien first.

“…I don’t know how to talk to her,” Adrien confessed to Nino as the other boy twirled the combination lock absently, opening the locker and pulling out a stack of clothes. “So how do I even begin to _flirt—?_ ”

“—Like I told you before, I’ve got some tips to help you, my man.” Along with the clothes, Nino place a piece of paper in Adrien’s arms, tapping it with his index finger. “This is my Holy Grail, I swear by it. It worked on Alya. I did these, and we were together by the end of the week.”

Craning his neck, Adrien read the article. “ _10 Flirting Techniques That Are Guaranteed to Work on Woman.’_ ” He quirked an eyebrow high and leveled Nino with a judgmental gaze, green eyes cautious and scrutinizing. “Are you sure about this?” 

Nino nodded, slinging an arm over Adrien’s shoulders and pushing him towards the restroom to change. “Adrien, please, have I ever done anything that would hurt your chances with women?”

“Well there’s the time you told everyone in class that I hated Sailor Moon.”

“Adrien…”

“What?”

“That didn’t _hurt_ you, man. That saved you.”

“Didn’t _hurt_ me? Nino, I _love_ Sailor Moon, and you know it. Spreading such blatant lies about me _really_ hurts my feelings.” 

Nino could groan helplessly at Adrien’s antics. “Just… let it go. It’s been _three_ months!” 

“Time doesn’t heal all wounds, Nino,” he murmured softly, eyes downcast as he reminisced on the horrors of the events before. He wondered if time would heal the wounds inflicted by the vagaries of bad luck and awkward flirting—or at least bestow Brain Bleach unto him so he could pretend this incident never happened.

Curiously, he looked over the article Nino had given him, wondering what flirting tips could save his tarnished reputation and help him confess his feelings to Marinette. The ragged edges of the article were evidence that it had once belonged in a magazine before Nino had haphazardly torn it away, crinkled and folded in corners that showed the wear and tear of time. Adrien wondered how long Nino had kept this—how often he had used it. It seemed well-loved at least, which was something, Adrien supposed.

There was a list of ten bullet points with captions that explained each in more depth:

 

  1. Set the stage with the “soft stare”.
  2. Be vague and leave her wanting more.
  3. Give her The Sensual Look™.
  4. Don’t be afraid to give her a surprise wink.
  5. Give her a playful bump to catch her attention.
  6. Understate your compliments.
  7. Use double negatives to tease her and compliment her at the same time.
  8. Be a Sensual Tease™ to let her know how you feel.
  9. Give her a moniker for inside jokes.
  10. Tell her how you feel.



 

“Nino,” he said. 

“Yeah, man?”

“These suck.”

Adjusting the brim of his hat, Nino sighed and placed a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Look, dude, you gotta trust me on this. I know my stuff, and these tips will win Marinette over _any day_.”

Adrien bit his lip, still unsure of the situation. “I don’t know…”

“Have I ever been wrong?”

“…Well…”

“Don’t answer that. Just… answer me this.” Nino stared at him with a quizzical expression, eyes alit with a certain gleam that told Adrien that Nino already knew the answer. “Do you like Marinette?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation. 

“Do you wanna date her?” 

“Yes,” Adrien said again, closing his eyes tightly as he caught onto Nino’s point. “…And these flirting tips will help me ask her out.” With the way he phrased it, he wasn’t even sure if he was making a prediction or asking a question.

“You betcha.” 

Adrien pursed his lips in a resolute expression, clutching the clothes and article to his chest, and nodded slowly. He stood in the middle of the deserted hallway, dripping miserable puddles on the tile floor, and could only shrug in agreement. 

“Fine,” he finally said with a small. “It can’t get any worse, right?”

 (Oh, _Adrien_.)


	3. the commentator, just your everyday potato

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien still can't use words, and it's a really bad day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a little thing I write on the side. It's not my best writing, and it's kind of crack with a plot. So it gives me great joy to see people enjoying this little thing. I appreciate all the comments and encouragement I've gotten with it. It truly means a lot.
> 
> If you wanna come scream at me or about these nerds, you can find me at [agrestenoir](http://agrestenoir.tumblr.com/).

Now that he was in dry clothing, life didn’t seem as bad, and he had to reassess the situation.

“I can’t do this,” Adrien said in a rush as he plopped down beside Nino. Even though he was now in dry clothes, he looked as tired and ragged as ever—a wet cat sulking in front of the fireplace after being left out in the rain. Regardless, it was exhausting and troublesome, and something Adrien absolutely _hated_ feeling.

“Come on, man, you gotta have more confidence in yourself,” Nino said, nudging him with his elbow and a bright smile. “You’re Adrien _freaking_ Agreste—there’s nothing you can’t do.”

“Except talk to girls,” Adrien quipped, voice heavy and disgruntled. He sunk lower in his seat: eyes dark, shoulders hunched, and a permanent scowl etched upon his face like a marble carving. 

Nino sighed and scooted closer, swinging an arm over the other boy’s shoulders. “Listen, you talk to _girls_ just fine.”

“But I can’t talk to Marinette.”

“That’s because she’s your _crush_ , and you can’t talk to _her_.” He rolled his eyes and gestured towards the magazine article on the desk in front of them. “That’s why this is gonna help you. Just do what it says, and she’ll be _dying_ to go out with you.”

 “How did you do half the stuff in this article?” Adrien asked, eyes wide and panicked, as he pointed at the list of flirting tips, cheeks flushing as he read through them again. “The soft stare? Be a Sensual Tease™? Use double negatives? Nino, this is grammar. _I don’t do grammar_.” 

(Read: He didn’t want to embarrass himself. It was bad enough he came in like a drenched cat this morning, but now Nino asked too much of him. Originally he thought he could handle a few flirting tips in hopes of catching Marinette’s attention, but the more he thought about it, the worse the idea felt. Like black magic brewing in the pit of his stomach, as soon as he opened his mouth, the curse would cast its spell on any poor victims it could get ahold of, and as he currently had his sights set on Marinette, so did it.)

Stifling a smile as he pushed his glasses up, Nino could only pat his arm in reassurance. “It’s really not that bad, dude.”

“I can barely talk to her. How am I supposed to use… complicated _words_ around her?” Adrien ran a hand through his blond hair, the wild mane standing loud and proud in face of his fear and panic. “I really don’t think I can do this, Nino.” 

“You need to take a deep breath and calm down,” Nino told him, eyes softening as he stared at his friend, almost like he couldn’t believe him. It was surprising sometimes how Adrien Agreste, the cool and confident boy on the front pages of magazines across the country, could be so scared and cautious when it came to his crush. “You’re freaking out, and that’s not helping anyone.”

“Of course I’m freaking out, it’s _Marinette—”_

“—who you could talk to perfectly fine before you realized how much you liked her,” Nino pointed out. 

Adrien sighed and ran both hands down his face in frustration. “I just don’t know how to do this.”

“As of now, we’ve established three things.” Nino adjusted the brim of his cap and clasped his hands behind his head, leaning back in his seat, as he leveled Adrien with a pointed stare. “One: you like Marinette, but you won’t stop stammering around her. If you keep it up, I’m remixing your awful love encounters for my next mix tape. Alya’ll appreciate it.”

Adrien sank lower in his seat, crossing his arms against his chest, his bottom lip stuck out in a pout. He said nothing in response to Nino, choosing to set his gaze on the article in front of him, and hoped that the vagaries of fate would combust it into ashes. 

“Two: the more you say you can’t do it, it just means it’s more time you _aren’t_ spending with Marinette.” Nino peered at his over the rim of his glasses. “Do you want to be an old man with ten cats, Adrien? You’ll be a _cat lady_.”

“Alright got enough cat in my life, but thanks.”

“And three: you’ve got all the answers right in front of you.” Tapping the article, Nino pointed to the flirting tips, starting with the first. “Number one: set the stage with The Soft Stare™. You don’t even have to talk for this one!”

Adrien quirked a brow high with curiously, leaning closer to his friend.

            **Technique #1: The Soft Stare (Setting the Stage)  
**

  * **Since the eyes can generally convey a lot of different feelings, you should put them to use whenever you flirt with girls because girls are actually hardwired by their feelings. Ideally, _you should stare at a girl as deeply as possible_ whenever you see or talk to her  while **maintaining a calm and relaxed expression** on your face. This will not just make  her feel more comfortable in your presence, but it will instantly make her feel closer to you too.  
**



 

“It doesn’t seem too bad,” he muttered, and Nino grinned wildly beside him.

“That’s what I’m saying, dude.” He couldn’t keep the smugness out of his voice. “These things are foolproof. There’s no reason you can’t do this. Just… when Marinette comes through that door, all you gotta do is put on your best model face, give her that killer smile of yours, and watch the magic happen.”

“What _killer smile_?” Adrien asked, puzzlement tinging his voice.

Nino rested his elbows on the desk as he pondered for a reference. “Do you remember that shoot you did for _93 Style_? With the black shirt, and you got that fancy lighting in the back?”

“Oh, with.. with the blood orange jacket and folded collar?”

“—yeah, yeah, that one, man, you got the eyes and brow game _strong_.”

“Oh yeah? Thanks, Nino.”

“No problem. Just use that smile, the one that says _I could just eat you up.”_

Adrien snorted. “So I just smile like that? That’s it?”

“Ye _p_ ,” Nino said, popping the “pop” as he tilted his head, catching sight of movement at the classroom door. “And here’s your chance—”

…Adrien had no chance.

Marinette came into the classroom as if she rode the wind, bangs blown back to frame her bright, blue eyes and cheeks stained a light pink, like the cool breeze had kissed her face when she’d swept by. He couldn’t help it. It reminded him of Ladybug. If he closed his eyes, he could picture her flying through the sky, hands clasped tightly around the string of yo-yo, as her laughter spilled into the Paris streets, echoing past his ears like his favorite song.

The thought haunted him because he was _sure_ that Marinette wasn’t some… _rebound_ after his failed attempts with his partner. During the long days and nights he’d pondered the subject, never once had it crossed his mind that Marinette was a substitute for Ladybug. If anything, the thought didn’t show that he crossed his two crushes: it was more along the lines of the fact that he could recognize beauty when he saw it.

And boy… was Marinette _beautiful._  

Adrien couldn’t help it. He smiled. 

His grin stretched across his face like a flower opening towards the sun, a plethora of colors and wonder blossoming slowly for all to enjoy. Lips curving high, a crinkle in the corners of his eyes, just pure undulated _happiness_ radiating from all over. Because he was. Adrien was happy to see her, happy she came to class (which was a rarity in all actuality), happy she… _was smiling back_.

“H-Hey, Adrien,” she greeted, eyes softening as she met his heavy gaze.

He often noticed that she liked to stutter and stammer her way through a conversation with him and had always chalked it up to him being unapproachable or intimidating. At least, that’s how some girls acted, though Marinette wasn’t any common girl. Anyway, it wasn’t like he could blame her exactly as he’d been doing the same thing as of late. He lost control every time he tried to talk to her, and usually her antics made him smile and laugh…  He just needed a way to make her comfortable around him, and for himself to be comfortable around him… Normally, he’d crack a pun or two to break the ice, but the tips said Soft Stare, Nino said Killer Smile, which meant… 

…it was time to _turn it up._

 _I could just eat you up_ , he thought, remembering Nino’s words. 

He lowered his gaze, peering at her through his fringe, and made sure to quirk the corner of his lips up high in a sideways smirk. Marinette seemed to freeze on the spot, unused to his expression, but she took it all in stride. She giggled, shifting on her weight as her eyes fell on her hands clasped in front of her, while the light pink dusting her cheeks darkened considerably. 

It was working. She was smiling back.

Nino nudged his knee under the desk as encouragement. Adrien just kept on smiling. 

“How are you?” Marinette finally ask, fingers dancing over each other. “Did you have a good lunch?”

 _oh no, oh no, ohnoohnoohno,_ he thought as his mind leapt into a state of panic, thought screaming to each other as he processed that she had asked him a question, that she was talking to him, that they were having a _conversation_. The tips hadn’t told him handle any questions!

“Mhmm,” he squeaked out.

Marinette paused, unsure of how to continue. Adrien merely sat there, still smiling.

Still _smiling_. 

Anxiety churned in his gut, fluttering nervousness that sparked flames that made everything warm and sweaty. He’d felt the same thing right before he’d confessed how he’d felt to Ladybug, and he couldn’t afford to face it now. The anxiety gripped his heart, and he was about to fall apart, burst open at the seams and everything he’d ever wanted to tell Marinette would spill out like word vomit.

If anything, Adrien tried to smile harder, like increasing the response would make the stimuli leave. 

Nino looked back and forth between him and Marinette like observing a tennis match, eyes turning tired as they continued to stare at one another, neither making a move to break the tense silence. He mumbled something under his breath, though Adrien swore he heard, “ _I’m surrounded by idiots”_ fall between them, but he really couldn’t process anything other than Marinette and the flashing neon sign of _PANICPANCIPANIC_ exploding in a firework of colors in front of him. 

“I-I mean, I mean,” Adrien suddenly began to stammer, the smile still plastered across his face because he couldn’t do anything other than what the article and Nino told him.

“Are you… okay?” Marinette asked, and suddenly she was leaning closer in his space, _soclosesocloseohsoclose_ , and he didn’t know what to do.

“Yes, I-I’m fine, I had a good lunch, thank you, goodbye,” he said in a rush.

Marinette stood still for a moment, still staring at him with a confused expression, before slowly walking up the steps to take her seat behind him. Adrien sat straight up, still unmoving. Meanwhile, Nino sighed to himself, sinking lower into his chair and stretching his legs out in front of him.

Adrien just kept smiling.

He hadn’t expected to fail that miserably, and he desperately thought that if he kept it up, it had to work eventually. It couldn’t possibly get any worse after that epic failure.

(Right?)


	4. up beet, down beet, sick beet, dead beet (veggies aren't always good for you)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Marinette thinks Adrien knows a secret, but really Adrien has no fucking clue what just happened, and surprise, surprise, he still can't talk to girls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to follow me on tumblr and scream with me about this story and our awkward losers at @agrestenoir.

 

Things went well for about a week, or at least Adrien had thought until Nino pulled him aside and asked why he looked like he was plotting Marinette’s murder like some sort of _serial killer_ every time he smiled her way. While he had to admit the first attempt at following Step One hadn’t gone as planned, Adrien had honestly thought the rest of the attempts were working their magic on Marinette. Each time he smiled, staring deep and long into her eyes until he was lost under the ocean of spark and sputter that was Marinette, she’d greet him with a small one of her own, a light blush dusting the tips of her cheeks. He assumed the flirting was working and that things were going well.

Oh, how _wrong_ he was.

After Nino’s ambush, Adrien quit talking to Marinette. Whenever she passed by, he turned his gaze to his paper, wishing he could be anywhere else, certain that he had ruined whatever chances he had with his friend. Humiliation kept him from asking her directly, if his awkwardness was the last straw (not to say that he’d ever have the courage to even approach her about such a delicate issue), but _still_. If he had the bravery to talk to her about it, he would have asked her out a _long_ time ago instead of turning towards Nino’s Killer Smile™ idea.

…Times like these made him wonder if talking to her would be the best solution. Marinette liked to stutter and stammer her way through her words around him, and while he chalked it up to shyness, he couldn’t blame her, because he lost control when he tried to talk to her as well… and therein lied the issue. Adrien Agreste couldn’t talk to Marinette Dupain-Cheng like a perfectly functional human being.

Obviously, the only solution was to _stop_ talking to Marinette altogether, which was the second bad idea he’d had that week after listening to Nino’s flirting advice. Alya tracked him down a few days into his self-imposed silence and whacked him upside the head with her phone, lecturing endlessly about how horrible he was, how he had made Marinette _cry_ by ignoring her, and how he’d better clean his act up else it’d be something worse than a phone that’d hit him next time. Honestly, though, Adrien paid little attention to Alya’s threat, more stuck on the fact that apparently his stupid actions had made Marinette _cry_ , and that was completely unacceptable.

Adrien brushed Alya off and approached Marinette himself, and through a painful five minutes of word vomit and apologies, he managed to cement some semblance of peace between them, or at least he hoped. Anyway, he went back to talking to Marinette as normally as possible after that because it was better to talk to her as friends than invoke his Killer Smile™ while trying to flirt. Talking still wasn’t easy for him, so with desperate times calling for desperate measures, he turned back to Nino’s magazine article as Step Two looked more and more promising with each passing day.

  * **Tip #2: Be vague and leave her wanting more.**
  * Keep it short and simple to make things fun and exciting between you two. Tell her you know a secret, tell her there’s something _interesting_ about her and you can’t quite put your finger on it, tell her that she’s _exactly_ your type but don’t tell her what your type is. She’ll only get closer to find out more.



So this sounded like the best thing he could possibly do to get back into Marinette’s good graces after the disastrous first tip. He hoped it would go well, and honestly _what could go wrong_ , but he was sure to keep that last part to himself. Murphy’s Law was no friend of his.

Talking, which seemed to be his main problem when interacting with Marinette, demanded much from him, but by being vague, hopefully the whole concept of “less is more” would prove to be true. To be perfectly honest, Adrien thought he had this tip in the bag. As a model for his father’s company, he knew how to skirt around a topic, having to deal with those stupid paparazzi who always followed him and keeping his secret identity as a superhero of Paris.

He decided to tackle his second attempt at flirting during their free period tomorrow, when he usually chilled in the locker room with Kim, Max, and Nino, and instead would head to library where he knew Marinette liked to study before their physics class. The next morning Nino cornered him after class, trying to gauge his opinion on which edition of _Mega Strike_ was the best, but Adrien paid little attention to the conversation, _hmming_ and _aaahh_ ing when the moment called for it, then ditched the hell out of dodge when he caught sight of Marinette ducking into the library. With a flick of his wrist as a wave and hurried goodbye, he dashed down the hall after her, trying to calm his heart which banged against his ribcage like a wild animal in protest. It was scared, he was scared, and the whole situation was _scary._

Marinette was at the table in the corner of the library, tucked between the encyclopedias and research journals, with her books strewn across the surface in front of her while she merely doodled half-finished designs in her notebook. Swallowing the thick lump in the back of his throat, Adrien approached cautiously, slipping into the slow, quiet steps that Chat Noir slunk in the shadows of buildings with, until he was directly behind her.

He took a deep breath and slammed his hand on the table, directly beside her notebook, and she _jumped_ , but all he could do in return was plaster a bright smile on his face and loudly exclaim, “ _Marinette!_ How’re you doing on this lovely—”

“Adrien,” she gasped out, hand cluttering the front of her shirt over her chest. “You scared the crap out of me!”

She met his wild, panicked eyes, and all he could spare was an uncertain little wave. “Hi.”

Taking a few seconds to get her heart under control, Marinette hastily closed her notebook and threw her pencil down, silence settling between them. Adrien fixed his gaze on her, almost lost in the moment before him, because it was so beautiful but so, so fragile at the same time. He couldn’t afford to break it. He swallowed and stared at his hand on the table, fingers curling into the surface in fear and panic.

“S-So, how’s the physics going?” he asked her hesitantly, almost breathless. Starting with a question seemed like the best course of action—short and simple—just let her do the talking so he wouldn’t completely embarrass himself.

When she regained her bearings, Marinette could only shrug helplessly, gesturing towards the work in front of her. “It’s going.”

( _Marinette, don’t you understand,_ he wanted to scream. I’m _the one who’s supposed to be vague. Not you.)_

“That’s good,” he said, hand sliding across the table as he fumbled to find a chair to sit in, fingers clawing at thin air only. “Going is going… somewhere, at least…. Right?”

“Couldn’t ask for much more at this point,” she murmured under her breath, covering her mouth with her hand as a sudden yawn slipped out, eyes crinkling and lips breaking their small smile. “Sorry, I’m just… really tired. Long night last night.”

“I feel that,” Adrien said in agreement, memories of last night’s akuma battle that stretched well into the early hours of the morning. Part of the reason had been because he couldn’t focus much on the akuma and Ladybug, too busy thinking about everything that could go wrong when he approached Marinette at school, and it had cost them some precious time in the grand scheme of things. If it hadn’t been for Ladybug’s Lucky Charm, they might have been fighting all the way through first period.

“So what’re you doing here?” she suddenly asked, pulling him from his silent reverie. “You’re usually with the rest of the guys, and I doubt you need to study physics. You’re already so smart—” She paused, face flushing a light pink, but Adrien barely noticed.

He didn’t understand. Despite how hard he was trying, he couldn’t exactly set the stage to be vague. No matter how he turned, which phrase he coined or threw out there, Marinette flipped the conversation back around to face him. How was he supposed to work the flirting into something that wanted to go a different direction?

“Adrien?” she asked, voice soft. He looked up at her, seeing a small frown worm its way on her face. “Are you okay?”

“I-I’m fine,” he choked out. “I just…”

“Are you sure? You look a little…”

He closed his eyes and said to his hands on the table, “Marinette, I’m here because I needed to talk to you.” (And… well… It _was_ the truth.”

There was a sharp intake of breath, a single gasp that broke the silence of the library, but he refused to look at her, heart already thundering loud in his ears. “You wanted to talk to _me_?” she asked, and he could only nod. “What for? Did I do something wrong? Did Alya say something because _I swear—”_

“No, no,” he told her, silently begging inside for the questions to stop.

“Is something wrong? Did Nino say something—”

“No, no, I promise—”

_What did the article say? Keep it short and simple…_

“Was it Chloe, did she—”

_keep her interested… make things excited…_

“Did I accidentally stare at you too long in class, because I zone out sometimes, silly me—”

_tell she’s your type but not what your type is…_

 “Do you need help with homework or—”

_tell her there’s something about her… tell her you know her— **BINGO**_

“Marinette,” he said suddenly, halting her ramblings and taking hold of the steering wheel, still talking to his hands because it was the only thing he could bear to face right then and there. “I know your secret.”

There’s silence that stretches seconds between them, and Adrien squeezed his eyes shut, and _oh God he’d messed up again, she’s gonna think he’s a creep_ —”

“…What?” she finally asked, and he could hear it in her voice. She wasn’t breathing right.

Adrien didn’t know how to respond. _Well shit_ , he thought. _The article didn’t tell me what happened after this._

“I-I know your secret,” he said, still stirring but straight off a cliff now. Figured that since he was committed, he might as well embrace the fiery death that awaited him with open arms.

“No, I know what you said.” Her voice was quiet and even, and _oh boy_ it suddenly got so much colder in here.

“Well, it’s true.” His voice was raspy like he couldn’t get enough air in. His heart was working in overtime. “I know it. Your secret… I knew there was something about you that I couldn’t put my finger on.”

Words shaking, she croaked out, “Wait… so you _know_?”

Adrien could only nod, finally finding the courage to raise his eyes and meet her piercing gaze. And dear Lord, what had he gotten himself into. Marinette had gone pale, mouth agape and eyes wide with worry, with her hands hovering over the table, continually opening and closing as if searching for an anchor to ground herself with. He wasn’t exactly sure what secret he had stumbled upon, even though he had zero clues about what he was claiming to know, but Marinette had a pretty good idea about it. If he had been in the right frame of mind, he might have been more concerned about what her secret exactly _was_ , but in all honesty, he was too worried about what to say next and how much he was fucking up exactly to form much sense.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” she was whispering under her breath, “this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening.” Eyes growing wider, which he hadn’t thought was even possible, she reached for him, hands gripping his shoulders with a tight grasp. “How did you find out?”

…To be fair, Adrien wasn’t sure what to do at this point. Panic Mode™ had been activated long ago, and Agreste needed to cha-cha-the-fuck outta here. So like the article said, he left her wanting more.

With a hurried goodbye, he bolted out of the library before she could even gain her bearings or registered his sudden leave, already darting for the locker room where he could cry to Nino about how awful his advice was again because _oh God…._

The thought was almost too much. Adrien squeezed his eyes shut and slowed down, long enough to bang his head against a locker. _Oh god_ , he told himself, _I broke Marinette_.

What else could go wrong now? 


End file.
